CHAPTER TWO

By the time third period rolled by, Eunjeong was ready to fling herself off a cliff.

Not only was Eunjeong way out of depth syllabus-wise, she also struggled with writing itself. Back home she spoke Korean well enough, but her writing expertise was sorely lacking. By the time she constructed a substantial answer, translated it from English to Korean, and then wrote it out into her notebook, the rest of the class was halfway through the exercise.

Frustrated with her own ineptness, Eunjeong found herself venting it all out on her poor, innocent mechanical pencil. Several times the lead had snapped from the extensive amount of pressure on Eunjeong's part, and on each occasion she grew more and more irritated. Snap went the mechanical pencil. Snap went her sanity.

Fortunately, before she could grip the offending pacer and snap it into two, Eunjeong spotted something in her peripheral vision. It was a pencil. The anxious hand which proffered it belonged to none other than the boy, his eyes downcast even as he encouraged her to take it.

Her frown instantly flipped into a slight smile as she accepted his offering. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

He must have understood, because he nodded jerkily before resuming his work.

As if the pencil was magical, Eunjeong was able to complete her work much more quickly and much more easily than before.

By the time recess rolled by, the tension in her shoulders had dissipated. But her classmates threatened her serenity. The call of the was like some kind of signal, for Eunjeong was immediately mobbed by a couple of girls while the boy sprung from his chair as if poked by a knife. He practically ran from the room, but before Eunjeong could do anything more than frown, her line of sight was suddenly obstructed.

One of two girls stepped before Eunjeong's desk, and she was suddenly grateful for the wooden barricade. “Hi!” the girl greeted, far too boisterously. Eunjeong's eye twitched. “I'm Pak Il Jun, and this is Song Kyung Jae.” She nodded to her friend who was beside her. Il Jun whipped back to face Eunjeong, her ponytail swinging wildly and almost slapping her friend's face. “How's your first day so far?” she asked brightly, unleashing her thousand-watt smile.

Eunjeong's twitch became more prominent. “It’s good…thanks,” she said lamely.

Kyung Jae frowned. “You should be happy, considering who you're sitting next to.”

She ensured none of her confusion or irritation peeked through her impassive mask. “I'm sorry?”

“Apology accepted.”

Il Jun directed a pointed glare toward her partner before smiling widely at Eunjeong, although it looked stiffer this time. “She means your seating neighbour. He's not here at the moment – he never is during break.”

Her eyes wandered to her left, staring at the empty seat beside her. “Who is he?” she murmured, mostly to herself.

“Lee Taemin.”

For some inexplicable reason, a shiver ran down Eunjeong’s spine. She expelled a breath she didn't know she was retaining. “Lee Taemin, huh?” she repeated, savouring the way his name rolled across her tongue.

“Is that name familiar to you?” Il Jun asked, presumably picking up on her odd reaction.

Crap. Eunjeong composed herself and said, “No.”

“You better stay away from him,” ordered Kyung Jae.

Eunjeong tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and reclined in her uncomfortable chair. “Give me one reason why I should.”

Kyung Jae made to approach her, but Il Jun shot her a look. Reluctantly, Kyung Jae stepped down, flicking her short hair with a huff.

“What she means to say is,” interjected Il Jun, turning back to Eunjeong, “that Lee Taemin means bad news. Unless you want to get in trouble, you should stay away from him.”

Eunjeong tilted her head to the side, a glimmer in her dark eyes. “Is that a threat?”

Il Jun’s smile grew, showing off more teeth than Eunjeong was comfortable with. “Think of it as advice. Now—”

But Eunjeong was rescued from an interrogation as a familiar chime signalled the end of recess. Saved by the bell.

The boy – Taemin – rushed back to his seat before the teacher could arrive. Subtly, Eunjeong glanced over at him, noting the brunette’s dishevelled hair and his ruffled uniform. How curious.

Soon all thoughts concerning her neighbour were knocked out of her mind as she focused on her work.  She was far from everyone else's level, but it was progress. The hours ticked by, and suddenly it was lunch. Before Smiles and Scowls could bombard her with more questions, Eunjeong dashed out of the classroom, following Taemin's exit.

Wandering aimlessly, she drummed her fingers on her lunch box as she debated where to go. She doubted the librarians would be generous enough to allow her to eat as she perused a book. Maybe she could hide it from their line of sight? Then again, by the time she found the library, lunch would probably be over.

Eunjeong was so caught up in her musings that she didn’t notice the boy in her way until it was too late. Grunting, she recoiled from the collision. Fortunately, her partner in crime gathered his wits rather quickly, and grabbed hold of Eunjeong's arm, steadying her.

Eunjeong flashed a weak smile at her saviour, hoping her blush wasn't as prominent as it felt. “Thank you, Taemin. We seemed to run into each other a lot, hu—?” But her futile attempt at humour was (rudely) interrupted by a shout from the direction which Taemin had emerged from.

A trio of second-years—judging by their neckties—sauntered over to where she and Taemin stood. The three of them all wore matching smirks, radiating the same aura as the pair of third-years Eunjeong had the misfortune of meeting earlier that day. She suddenly experienced the urge to punch something.

“Thought you could escape, huh?” scoffed one of the stooges, arms crossed before his bulky chest. “Good thing you were held up.” He slid his gaze towards Eunjeong.

Though a sneer adorned her face, Eunjeong was secretly horrified. Guilt gnawed its way through her empty stomach. It was her fault Taemin was currently being assaulted. She should- no, she had to rectify things.

She stepped in front of Taemin, partially blocking their view of him. Judging by the way three sets of eyes immediately zeroed in on her like lasers, the act wasn’t as subtle as she had intended it to be.

“Don’t you know only cowards group against one person?” she asked, her voice forcibly even.

The bulky one shot her a bemused glare. “Who are you?”

“Hey,” one of his friends called. “You're that new student, right? The foreigner?” He nudged his glasses into position, as if to inspect Eunjeong thoroughly.

“Foreigner?” the other repeated, thick brow arched. “How can you tell?”

“Word going around is that there's a foreign student, and that she's wearing a scarf even though it's only autumn,” sniggered Glasses.

Eunjeong rolled her eyes. It wasn't her fault Korean autumn was equivalent to her winter. Still, she her white scarf somewhat uneasily.

“Well, foreigner,” Bulky drawled. “I guess you weren't taught this back wherever you're from, but here, we have this thing called manners. You respect your upperclassmen.”

Her sneer made a reappearance. “You want my respect, you earn it.”

She could almost hear a handkerchief drop in the stony silence that followed.

“You brat!” he hissed, advancing towards her menacingly.

Despite the fact that he towered over her small form greatly, Eunjeong managed not to flinch. Softly, she said, “Assault can lead to not only expulsion—but, in extreme cases—imprisonment.” She raised her brows, practically daring him to lay a finger on her.

“Enough,” called Thick Brows, his voice effectively interrupting their tense stare-off. “Let's go.”

Bulky snarled. He gave her one last glare as he reluctantly stormed away, ignoring his friends' coaxing words.

It was only when they were out of sight did Eunjeong allow herself to relax. God, it had been less than a day and she was already knee-deep in trouble.

But hearing Taemin's grateful, if soft, “Thank you” was worth it.

She stared stubbornly into Taemin's surprised eyes. “Lee Taemin, you owe me.” She waited until fear began to seep into the edge of his face before breaking into a comforting smile. “Keep me company during lunch.”

Clearly taken aback, Taemin mumbled in an unsteady voice, “I…”

His hesitation caused Eunjeong's heart to still. Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he was too shy, too uncomfortable with the whole situation. Maybe she had single-handedly nipped their potential friendship in the bud with her sudden audacity. Maybe—

“Sure,” he said, eyes crinkling warmly. “Will do.”

Euphoria soared through her heart, piercing the dense clouds threatening to enshroud her. Smiling broadly for the first time in weeks, she a hand towards her newly-acquired friend. “Lee Eunjeong,” she introduced brightly.

He shook her hand, which actually tingled from the touch. “Lee Taemin.”

As the duo made their way through the halls, Eunjeong glanced at Taemin. A frown marred her features as she recalled the various events of the day: the third-years in the morning, the way people stared at him, the warning from the pair of girls, and the recent trio of second years. This boy clearly attracted trouble like food did flies, though Eunjeong had no clue why. He seemed harmless, especially with that trodden-puppy look glued to his features. Maybe it was because he was the only one with dyed hair?

Was this why the girls warned her to maintain her distance from him—because he would drag her into his mess of a world? Somehow, as Eunjeong recalled the faces of Smiles and Scowls, she sincerely doubted their alleged altruism. Her mind racing, Eunjeong grasped at straws.

“By the way,” she said, “your girlfriend is one piece of work.”

Instead of receiving a glare or a punch, Taemin simply stared in shock. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” So that possibility was eliminated. “But there was this girl, who said to keep away from you… I figured it was a possessive girlfriend issue or something. My mistake.” Though her voice remained deliberately light, she focused her gaze on Taemin, drinking in his reaction.

But he offered no enlightenment. Instead of correcting her and explaining his isolation, Taemin merely fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “If…” he began, mumbling. Eunjeong had to strain herself to catch his next words. “If she told you to stay away from me, then why are you doing – this?”

Eunjeong fiddled with her scarf, frowning in thought. “Well,” she said, slowly, “birds of a feather flock together, right? Besides, I’m not gonna let anyone dictate my life, let alone some troll.”

Taemin didn’t smile (Eunjeong was beginning to wonder if he was capable of exhibiting any other emotion besides intense sadness) but his face definitely looked less taught, his shoulders less stooped. It wasn’t much, but Eunjeong supposed something was better than nothing.

At least she lost the urge to punch the sulk out of his body. Baby steps.